Painted Dreams
by PinkNekoQueen
Summary: Aoba is trying to cope with the grief of losing a loved one as the one year anniversary of their death comes up, Mink is trying to cope with teaching a bunch of troublesome school kids in a foreign country, and they are both trying to cope with developing feelings for each other as student and teacher. School AU. Rated M for yaoi smut and language. Mink/Aoba fic.
1. Chapter 1

"Aoba Seragaki, see me after class!"

Those hated words were the last thing he wanted to hear right now. He felt his heart deflate as though punctured with a blade.

"But it wasn't even my fault!" he protested stubbornly, even though he knew it was futile to argue against the infamously strict Mr. Mink. The History teacher's cold blue eyes narrowed on him. "See me after class," he repeated, slowly enunciating each word in his unnervingly deep voice. His whole demeanor said there was absolutely zero room for argument on this matter. Aoba let out a sigh of frustration, and turned his anger on Noiz who sat behind him, eyeing the blond with a sharp glare. Noiz only grinned at him, his pale green eyes lighting up like the gleam of a cat's in the dark. Aoba resisted the urge to lean forward and rip the metal piercings from his smug little face. It would be interesting to see if he would keep on grinning like an idiot then. He entertained the thought before his mind began to wander, as he purposely ignored the rest of Mink's lecture, feeling a bitterness churn in his stomach.

As the school bell rang, its loud annoying chime signifying the end of the day, Aoba had been staring out of the window in a daze, his eyes just barely focusing on a flock of birds that circled around through the clear blue sky in a surge of little fluttering black specks. He slowly turned his head, watching as his classmates dashed for the door, the room alive with excitement and chatter as they escaped to freedom. While he was still trapped inside, feeling more like a prisoner about to be sentenced to a lifetime behind bars than a high school student stuck in detention. Noiz smirked at him as he walked by, and Aoba just rolled his eyes. "Immature little shit," he muttered under his breathe.

"Aoba," Mr. Mink spoke his name firmly, pulling a chair over and planting himself in front of Aoba's desk. The room suddenly felt so small, as though the walls were slowly closing in around him, and the sudden heaviness in the atmosphere around him was crushing, like a weight had sunk into his bones. He shrunk back in his seat, eyeing the teacher warily.

Having the incredibly tall man standing over him during class usually made Aoba feel really uneasy, but somehow having him sat across a small wooden desk, watching him like a hawk, was more intimidating. He was a well built, broad shouldered man with an air of severity around him and constantly wore a stern expression on his tanned face. His long dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail behind his head, a few loose strands falling over his high, sharp cheeks, and small glasses were perched on top of his large nose. He regarded Aoba thoughtfully, who just scowled back at him stubbornly, trying to hide the fact his nerves were twisting tightly inside him.

"I didn't keep you behind today as punishment," he finally began to talk, his voice softer than the usual harsh commanding tone he spoke with during class. Aoba stared at him, doubt written all over his face.

"Why am I here then?" he asked, a feeling of confused agitation rising in him.

"I'm concerned about your behaviour in class," Mink answered.

Aoba scoffed. "That little shit was pulling my hair."

Mink raised an eyebrow. Most students wouldn't dare cuss in front of a teacher. "It's not just that. You don't pay attention, you never hand in homework, you rarely ever complete the tasks you're given, if you even bother to show up to class at all," he elaborated, all the while watching Aoba from across the table with steady blue eyes.

"So?" Aoba said with a small shrug. He'd heard this lecture before a thousand times, and he really couldn't be bothered going through it all again. He just wanted to go home and sleep, or get lost in a video game for a few hours. He hated it here.

"You used to be a top scoring student," he said bluntly, his eyes narrowing. Aoba felt himself go stiff under that gaze. Mr. Mink was a relatively new teacher, so how would he know about that? And why was it of any concern to him anyway? "And?" Aoba asked, meeting that gaze with his own stubborn glare. Those cold blue eyes seemed to be searching for something, and he felt like he was trying to hold his ground against a wild animal for a moment.

"I'm just worried you're throwing away your future. You're smarter than this."

Aoba scoffed. "What future? Why do you give a shit?"

"I spoke to your Gran about it," Mink replied.

Aoba felt a sudden spark of rage boil through his blood. What right did this old bastard have, sticking his nose in where it wasn't wanted? Dragging his family in where they weren't needed? "Mind your own damn business," he spat through gritted teeth.

Mink sighed, lowering his gaze to the table. "I'm sorry about what happened," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low. "It's hard to lose someone you love."

Aoba felt his rage subside into a cold, sick feeling that weighed heavily in his stomach. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened last year, and he certainly didn't want any false pity from a teacher who only pretended to care. He'd had enough of this classroom, of this school and of the damn teachers who always looked down at him with their cold, disdainful eyes, like he was a delinquent. Or even worse, the ones that knew what had happened, and felt pity for him, treating him like he was broken, trying so hard to put him back together. If that's what this bullshit was about, he needed none of it. He abruptly stood up, his entire body trembling, the backs of his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. "You're not sorry about shit," he muttered sharply, staring down at the floor.

"I didn't mean-"

"If that's all, I'll be going now," he interrupted, speaking bitterly before storming out of the room. He didn't even grab his school bag or any of the belongings scattered across his desk.

Pale sunlight streamed in through the large windows that lined the corridor, illuminating the long and silent path that stretched out before him. The quiet and peaceful atmosphere was so surreal, and any other time he would have found emptiness of the hall strangely peaceful. But right now a harsh sadness tore right through him like daggers under his skin, and with no one else around to see him cry, he let out the tears he'd been trying so hard to choke back.

Walking through the vacant school had been a blur, but as he approached the exit he heard chatting voices outside and quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his white school shirt, soaking the hem with tears. When he got outside, he saw a small group of female students near the school gates, clustered around a familiar figure as they laughed and fawned over him. Koujaku stood there, smiling indulgently as he tried to handle the unwanted attention of giggling school girls. Aoba was a little surprised to see him, it had been a while since his best friend had waited by the gate for him to finish school. Recently he'd been busy with a new modelling career, but even before then he had been pretty popular with the ladies.

Koujaku was tall and handsome, with a lightly muscled body, and long dark hair. His face was well defined with a striking beauty and captivating eyes that were an alluring shade of red, always seeming to bloom like roses whenever he smiled. He was a kind and caring man, and the gentle warmth of his smile reflected that.

"Yo, Aoba!" he called out, his voice somehow managing to be heard over the laughter of the girls around him. He managed to step away from them and rush forward to greet his friend with a pleasant smile. Some of the abandoned girls shot daggers at Aoba, but he brushed their harsh glares off. "You okay?" Koujaku asked, slight concern rising in his voice.

"I'm fine," Aoba replied flatly, the blatant lie doing nothing to ease the sadness he felt.

Koujaku's smile turned into a frown, those deep red eyes scanning his face. "Don't lie. You've been crying," his voice was soft and low. "Did something happen?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Aoba responded, a little more harshly than he intended to.

"You don't have to tell me then. Come on, I have time off today so I'll walk you home," Koujaku said with a soothing smile.

"I wanted to stop by and...see him on the way," Aoba said quietly, his voice trembling slightly. It was a thought that suddenly occurred to him, but in his gut it felt like something he had to do today. Koujaku's eyebrows knitted together in question before it suddenly dawned on him and he dropped his gaze. "Ah, okay...Would you rather be alone?"

"No, it's fine."

Koujaku took his hand as they walked, brushing by the group of girls and ignoring their complaints as they left the school grounds. It was something they had started doing when they were children, holding hands whenever one of them was upset and in need of comfort. Even as they got older and occasionally earned the odd look from people, they continued the unbreakable habit. It was a sort of ritual, a testimony to their close friendship, proof of how much they cared for one and other.

The walk wasn't too far from the school, and they managed to grab a small bunch of colourful flowers along the way. They walked in a solemn silence, neither of them knowing how to start a conversation or what they could even talk about. With anyone else it may have been uncomfortable, but with Koujaku it was acceptable, maybe even welcome. He didn't need to hear any unnecessary words, the warmth of his best friend's fingers entwined with his own was more than enough right now.

Aoba knelt down in the grass, carefully placing the flowers in front of the headstone. It cast a shadow upon them, dulling the vivid colours of the petals. The graveyard was a quiet and peaceful place, he could hear nothing but the distant chirping of song birds and the occasional rustle of leaves as wind blew through the tree tops. There was no one else around right now save for Koujaku. He had already paid his respects beforehand, and now stood a fair distance away in the corner, leaning against a tall, imposing oak. It's large shadow seemed to loom across the yard, and sunlight shone through the swaying leaves, dappling the ground with moving patches of glowing gold. Koujaku watched over Aoba from a distance, his attentive gaze also filled with a worried sadness.

Aoba didn't really know what to say, but words began pouring from his trembling lips anyway. "Hey..." he spoke so softly that the air seemed to swallow his words. "It's been a while. I know I should have visited more...but it still doesn't seem real. I don't think it ever will. It's been almost a year, and sometimes I still expect to see you when I come home from school. It's just so hard to believe you're gone. I was reminded of you today. So I thought maybe I should come by and visit, you know?" he could feel tears burn the corners of his eyes, but he didn't stop, just took a deep breathe and continued.

"I miss you. It's like when you died, you took some part of me with you. I can feel it all the time, even now. Like a hole in my chest. I know you would just smile, and tell me to be strong and cheer up, but...I can't. I'm not strong. I never was and never will be." At this point he wasn't really sure of what he was saying, perhaps he was just venting all the pent up feelings inside of him, the things he usually kept hidden away. He wondered if his voice would reach out, or if his words were just disappearing into the sky like smoke.

"This world can be so cruel and unfair sometimes. I don't know why it had to take you from me. You were the strong one, Sei," he finished talking, barely able to speak the last few lines. As his brother's name left his mouth, he felt as though all the air had left his lungs with it. There was nothing else to say now, and in silence he just stared up at the sky for a while. It was so clear and pure, like a painted canvas of blue had enveloped the world above him. He wondered if his big brother was looking down on him, if he could see him crying by his grave and rambling on like an idiot. Would be be happy that he'd come to talk to him or be sad that he wasn't able to get over his death yet? Or maybe he wasn't there at all, death truly was the end, and he no longer existed in this world or any other. It didn't matter anyway, because either way he would never see his brother again. He would never hear his gentle voice, or look into those large dark eyes that always seemed so soft and kind, or feel the comforting warmth of his embrace. They would never laugh together again over some stupid joke, or argue about something that was probably meaningless. So it didn't really matter. Nothing really mattered any more.

He suddenly felt so small, like the sky was about to fall on him and he'd suffocate beneath the weight. In the distance, a dark cloud had began to crawl its way onto the horizon like a horrid grey bruise. By the time he finally pushed himself to his feet, his legs had become so numb from kneeling that he could barely feel them anymore, and he would have stumbled over had Koujaku not been there to catch him by the elbow. "Woah, easy," he said. "Better get you home now. It's getting kind of late." He hadn't even noticed Koujaku's presence until he spoke.

Aoba nodded stiffly, letting his friend lead him away. As soon as he got back home, he thanked Koujaku and explained that he wanted to be alone for a while. His best friend only nodded sympathetically, and after a quick hug, left. "Call me if you need anything, Aoba," were his departing words as he hurried down the pathway. "We'll hang out soon, I promise!" As soon as Koujaku was gone, he ran up to his room, avoiding his grandmother and older brother, Ren. They would probably try and talk to him and he really didn't want to talk.

He shut the door behind him and threw himself onto his bed, burying his head into the soft pillows. For a long time, even after his death, Sei's bed had sat empty and cold on the opposite side of the room from Aoba's, and he had always found some comfort in facing it as he slept and envisioning his brother lying across from him. But a few months ago, Ren had come and taken it away while he was at school, and when Aoba got home the room had been so unbearably empty, and he'd never felt so alone. He had sat in his bed and cried for the rest of the day, as the reality of his brother's death had crashed upon him and the little dreamy world of denial he'd been living in had shattered to pieces around him.

That feeling of loneliness had always lingered inside him since, like a pit of darkness had settled into his gut or a part of his soul had been torn away. He hadn't really spoken much to Ren afterwards. Somewhere deep down, he still held a grudge toward him for taking away the one thing of Sei's left behind, even though he knew it was for his own good.

For a moment he felt as though everything from inside him had been hollowed out, that he was just an empty shell. And then an intense sadness suddenly surged through him, cold and brutal and unbearable, like an ocean of icy water had flooded into his veins. "Sei," he said quietly, unable to stop his voice from trembling.

Aoba cried himself to sleep, facing the empty space on the other side of the room where his brother used to dream, and when his Grandmother came to wake him up for the school in the morning, he refused to get out of bed. He didn't want to move for the rest of the day. It was only when his Gran came bursting into his room, yelling that someone had called up and asked for him and demanding that he talk to them over the phone, that he finally sat up in bed, the warm sheets still tangled around his body. He was still in a sleepy daze, and didn't really have a clue what was happening. She forced the phone into his hand, her blue eyes glaring down at him before she stormed out of the room.

Lazily he put it up to his ear. "Uh...hello?"

"Aoba," a familiar and deep voice from the other end.

"Mr. Mink?" he asked tiredly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The memories of what had happened yesterday hadn't quite caught up to him, and he forgot that he was upset and angry with his History teacher.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. If you are avoiding school because of it, you should come back in as soon as possible."

"Eh?"

A deep sigh from the other end. "Have you just woken up?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"It's lunchtime," Mink's voice did not sound amused.

"So?" he asked. His memories of the brief conversation with his teacher slowly swam back into his mind. At the time he'd been upset, feeling like his personal space was being invaded and the man was bringing up things he had no right to talk about. But right now he was too worn out to care, and he just wanted this call to end quickly so he could curl back up in bed and sleep for a few more hours.

"Come back to school tomorrow," Mink said. It didn't sound like he was asking, it sounded like he was demanding. That frustrated Aoba.

"Why should I?" he demanded, anger flaring up in him.

"It's your life you're going to waste," he warned.

"Exactly, it's nothing to do with you, so leave me alone," Aoba retorted, agitation rising in his voice before he hung up the phone, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. His Gran would not be pleased in the slightest if he did that. He took a deep breathe, trying to calm himself. That damn teacher was really getting on his nerves. First butting in on his life and bringing up things he didn't want to talk about, now calling him and trying to force him to return to school even though he was one of the reasons he didn't want to go. How stupid and ignorant could someone be, Aoba thought bitterly, slipping out of bed to take the phone back to his downstairs. "Stupid damn teacher," he muttered quietly as he left his room.

"What was that?" Ren's voice made him jump. He hadn't noticed his older brother standing outside in the hallway.

"None of your business," Aoba responded.

Ren frowned, looking a little hurt for a moment, before he spoke again. "I'm just worried about you. Why aren't you at school today, Aoba?" he regarded him with soft amber eyes that almost seemed to glow in the light. Ren's hair was short and dark like Sei's had been, only a little more messy, and he ran a hand through it, patiently awaiting an answer from Aoba who just glared at him in return.

"None of your damn business," he spat. He knew he was being harsh toward his older brother, but he didn't really care at the moment. Ren was a couple of years older, and although he bore some resemblance to Aoba in the shape of his light eyes, he had Sei's soft features and wider jawline. And his kind nature too. He had once been close to Ren, but now he found it hard just to be near him. "Aoba, I'm your brother," Ren said, a sadness filling his eyes.

"So was Sei," he replied coldly, before running down the stairs to set the phone back on its stand, contemplating grabbing a snack from the kitchen before deciding that he felt too sick to eat. Once he made his way back to his bedroom, he slumped down onto his bed and just sat there for a while. He wasn't particularly tired anymore, but he didn't really feel like doing anything either. It was boring at home all day like this. Maybe he should just go back to school tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

The ringing of his alarm clock woke Aoba up, the sound piercing over and over into his skull like like a persistent stabbing blade, until he rolled over with a frustrated sigh and turned the thing off with a slam of his hand. And then he dragged himself out of bed, the sheets still clinging around his body as though the arms of sleep were trying to pull him back into their warmth, and lazily slipped into his school uniform. He frowned at his pale reflection. The weary bags under his eyes were one of the indicators that he hadn't quite caught enough sleep in yet another restless night of twisting and turning beneath the sheets, dreaming in only fragmented scraps. His long blue hair fell around his face in a limp, scruffy mess, and by the look and feel of a slight grease clinging to it, he knew he was in need of a shower, but he didn't care. He quickly ran a comb through it and tied it back in a loose ponytail.

His stomach growled with hunger, but when he searched the fridge for something to eat, his insides felt tight with a nauseating sickness and he decided to skip breakfast. He left for school without a word to Ren or his grandmother, slamming the front door behind him. The school was within walking distance and he slowly made his way beneath the slight mist of rain that scattered upon him, soaking into his hair and clothes. The sky above him was a vast and lifeless canopy of grey, the ground beneath his feet felt as though it was unsteady and uneven, like the rippling surface of the ocean.

The first thing he did upon arriving at school was return to Mink's classroom to collect the supplies he'd left there in his hurry to get away the last time. His stomach knotted as he approached the room, and his hand trembled slightly when he lightly tapped at the door with his knuckles. After a few dreadful seconds that seemed to last forever, a gruff voice called from the other side. "Come in!"

With shaky hands he twisted the door knob and pushed it open. The hinges groaned as though they were in pain, and his stomach seemed to churn, his nerves pulling tightly inside him like wound cord. He didn't really want to face the teacher after what had happened the other day. He wasn't sure if it was fear or embarrassment, but something seemed to be putting his whole body on edge.

"I'm here for my stuff," he said quietly, not even glancing at the teacher who sat at his desk, poring over a small messy pile of papers. "That's fine, Seragaki," his voice was cold, remote, and for some reason it made ice shoot through Aoba's veins. "It's over by your desk,"

Aoba chanced a small peek at the teacher as he made his way across the room. His chin resting upon clasped fingers, Mink was staring at the papers, a deep frown etched onto his face, his brow wrinkled right above where his glasses were perched atop his nose. His hair was down, which was a rarity, tumbling over his shoulders in long brown waves, a lot longer and thicker than Aoba would have expected. In the pale morning light that poured through the large, spacey windows, it seemed to have an auburn sheen running through it. Mink seemed tired, Aoba thought. Like he had barely slept. His eyes seemed dull and weary, shadowed with dark circles, and his usual strong and steady posture was more relaxed, as though the energy had been drained from him. He seemed almost human this way, not like a cold and unfeeling machine.

Mink peered up at him, and for a brief moment their eyes met, and Aoba felt his nerves ping as though they were guitar strings being plucked and swiftly looked away, grabbing his bag and making his way back to the door.

"I'm glad you're back in today," Mink said as he left the room.

"Whatever," Aoba muttered, closing the door behind him.

The rest of the day drifted by unbearably slowly, like a legless bug still trying to crawl along the dirt, until lunch time. Aoba hated this time of the day. The moment when each tick of the clock became a long, drawn out boom, the atmosphere of those around him alive and buzzing as though shot through with electricity, all the excited chatter in anticipation of the bell swarming into his ears like hundreds of tiny flies. He was glad for the break between lessons, but hated when it became an anxious wait to return to the relative safety of a classroom. The ringing of the bell shot through him, and as everyone else poured from the room like stream water rushing through a crevice, he reluctantly lingered behind the main flood of students, slowly gathering his things. Once the room was empty, he slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked out. He'd skipped out on breakfast this morning, and hadn't bothered to pack any lunch, which he started to regret when his stomach began growling. There was enough change in his pockets to buy something from the cafeteria, but the thought of going to such a noisy, crowded area made him feel a little sick. So instead he ended up sitting outside alone, slumped on a bench beneath a tall tree, staring at his phone as he waited for Koujaku to reply to a text he'd sent him while he was bored out of his mind during class.

He was still on the school grounds, he could hear the sound of other students. Talking, laughing, standing in their little circles, the girls huddled close and gossiping, the guys playing around like children. He used to be a part of groups like that, used to stand around during breaks and chat away without a care in the world, Sei more often than not by his side, nodding shyly, flashing his gentle smile. Aoba had been the sociable one of the pair, the one who made friends and went out and did things. Sei was more quiet, introverted. He rarely spoke unless someone else initiated the conversation, and even then his voice was soft and low. That's why he clung to Aoba a lot, because of how timid he was, but Aoba didn't mind. He missed that presence, almost like a hand on his back, offering him support and guidance. Sometimes he thought Sei was the only reason he had that confidence, and now that he was gone it had been taken away too. He could no longer bare the thought of being around people like he used to.

"Yo," a casual voice pulled his attention away from his phone, and he looked up to see Noiz.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly, instantly staring back down at the illuminated screen.

"I'm sorry for the other day," the blond muttered, taking a seat next to Aoba.

"Whatever," he responded, rolling his eyes at the apology. He couldn't tell whether he was being sincere at all, Noiz was one of those people that were difficult to read. Sort of like an enigma, his behaviour and actions were far from normal, he didn't seem to fit into any standard mold, he wasn't part of a clique or a club. But unlike Aoba, it was more out of a lack of interest rather than fear of being around anyone.

"Can you leave me alone now?" Aoba really didn't want to deal with him, or anyone else at the moment for that matter. The apology was probably just a farce anyway, another one of the idiots stupid jokes, part of some bigger scheme. Noiz had that suspicious aura around him sometimes, his green eyes deceptive, his demeanor shifty. He was definitely hiding something. Besides, he was always messing around. Pulling Aoba's hair, grabbing his bag, moving his things about. It didn't seem like he wa ever doing it out of spite, there wasn't a real hint of malicious intent behind it, he seemed to think it was all fun and games. It just wasn't very fun for Aoba.

"I heard some guys from our class talking about you" Noiz stated bluntly, dismissing Aoba's request to be left in peace.

Aoba glanced over at him before quickly looking away. "I don't care," he said defensively, trying to douse the slight spark of curiosity. Whatever they had been saying, it probably wasn't nice, so he'd be better off not knowing about it.

"Some of them say you're gay," Noiz said, his pierced lips twitching into a slight smirk

"W-what?" he sputtered, a little stunned. It took moment for those words to sink in, and when they finally did, he felt his stomach drop, as though it was suddenly weighed down with lead. He clenched his fists by his sides, his arms beginning to tremble, an embarassed heat pouring into his face. _How could they know? How could anyone possiby know?_ He searched his mind for some sort of answer, his thoughts racing through his head in an overwhelming flood. But there was nothing he could think of that would give anyone that sort of impression. He'd hidden it so well, he knew he hadn't slipped up.

Until he recalled all the times he'd held hands with Koujaku. It was something they had always done, something that seemed as normal as waking up in the morning, as breathing during the day. It was just natural to him, to both of them. But maybe in the eyes of strangers who didn't understand, it wasn't normal. It was odd, it was different. Two grown men didn't normally hold hands like that, did they?

"I knew it," Noiz said with a triumphant grin, those cat like green eyes narrowing on him. He felt trapped under that gaze, cornered like a rodent about to be pounced on by a vicious predator.

"Go away," he said quietly, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"It's not-" Noiz began to speak, but Aoba interrupted him before he could finish.

"Fuck off," he spat. He couldn't bear to hear another word, couldn't bear to let Noiz speak about it anymore. The brat was just here to torment him, and as usual he was letting his words get under his skin like blades, allowing himself to feel upset and angered. Aoba didn't want to discuss his sexuality, certainly not with someone who constantly gave him hassle anyway. He was still struggling to come to terms with the fact he wasn't interested in women. He knew deep down there was nothing wrong with it, but still he couldn't help but feel like an misfit, an outsider trying to look in on something he could never really have. When he saw couples walking hand in hand, heard guys talk about the girls they liked or their girlfriends, it always sent a pang of something cold through him, a pressure between his ribs that he couldn't quite comprehend. He would never have that, he would never understand that, and it stung a little.

He abruptly stood up and stormed off, more flinging his feet repeatedly into the concrete slabs rather than actually walking. It felt good to feel them collide with the ground, to feet the dull ache of the impact spread all the way up his legs from the tips of his toes. Like he was relieving some of the pent up rage from within him, stomping it into the dirt. Trying to hold back the tears that stung the backs of his eyes, he began typing another text message to Koujaku. The only living person he had told his secret to, the only person he could still talk to about it. 'I need to talk to you' he typed. He was about to hit send when he collided with something and his phone slipped from his hands, clattering to the ground. "Fuck," he swore through gritted teeth, stumbling backward to see an open door before him, slightly baffled at how he'd managed to walk face first into it. Then someone tall peered around from behind, cold eyes zoning in on him like a killer marking his target.

Mink. He felt cold fingers trace his spine as the teacher frowned down at him, raising an eyebrow. "Watch where you're going. And watch your language, Seragaki."

"Whatever. Sorry," he mumbled, leaning down to pick up his phone, ignoring the teacher that loomed over him. He noticed a fracture on the screen, spanning out from the top corner in a map of spidery cracks. "Shit," he spat, scooping it up to analyse it closer, his brow furrowed in dismay. Mink, who had been walking away, suddenly turned on him again. "Language. I won't give you another warning," he said firmly, his face hardening, eyes narrowing into that signature deadly glare that usually terrified students. But it didn't terrify Aoba this time. Instead he found himself glaring back, and with a suddenness like an icy gale cutting through him, the world around him became cold and still, a heaviness falling upon him as though his chest was being crushed by iron bars.

 _Why is it always me?_ _Why am I the one that always get punished?_ As soon as the thoughts crossed his mind, he felt rage flare within him, like sparks igniting into a roaring flame, sweeping through his blood. Everything else seemed to fade out into a white mist, and all he could see was that damn teacher glaring at him, feeling the disdain and the pity in that frozen gaze. Mink was so damn arrogant, so damn full of himself, always looking down on him with that stupid glare, putting on an act and pretending he cared when in reality all he wanted was to make fun of him like everyone else. "Fuck you," those words seemed to escape from his lips as though pushed out by his anger. His voice seemed cold and distant, even to his own ears, as though he was listening to a recording of himself rather than the real thing.

Mink's gaze seemed to go empty. As black and cold as a starless night sky. "Detention. Now," he said, his voice a low growl. Aoba felt his body go stiff, as though he was bound in place by some invisible force. Thorns seemed to prick beneath his skin, every hair on his body shooting up with the fear that bit down his spine. There was something hidden in the depths of those eyes, an endless darkness that seemed to trigger some blaring alarm in the back of his mind, some instinct telling him the man before him was dangerous, and he knew he'd taken a step too far this time.

But that look only darkened his feature for a brief moment, and then it was gone as soon as it came. "Now!" Mink repeated, raising his voice. Aoba flinched and took a step back, his heart almost leaping from his chest. He shook his head violently, his messy blue hair falling over his face. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to be alone with him. For just the briefest of moments he had glimpsed something twisted and inhuman within his teacher, and he knew hidden beneath that stone faced mask that Mink wore, someone, something seriously terrible lived. Just like himself, a darkness had been etched upon Mink's soul.


	3. Chapter 3

Cold light poured through the large windows that lined the classroom, illuminating the dark corner in which Aoba sat at the back of the room, as far away from Mink as he possibly could, brooding with a scowl on his face like a child punished for misbehaving. In a way he was just that. The teacher had given him detention for foul language and insubordination, and was currently sitting at his desk, his face set like stone as the pen in his hand trailed with deliberate anger across paper, probably writing up some sort of referral for him. Then he would have to go to the head teacher's office and get lectured for the hundredth time about how he wasn't good enough. The amount of time he'd spent in that awful place, it was beginning to feel like a cold and miserable second home. Not much different from his own then, he thought bitterly, unaware of the sour expression on his face.

The classroom was overwhelmingly tense, the heavy atmosphere almost crushing, like someone was standing on his chest. Mink was a cold and intimidating man, his silent anger put Aoba edge, he felt as though all his nerves were being pulled, a hand reaching inside of his body and wrapping them tightly around its fingers. He shivered slightly, pulling his arms around himself.

Mink glanced up at him, a deep frown etched onto his face. "If you're cold, close the window," he said flatly, nodding his head in a stiff gesture toward one of the windows that was still slightly cracked open, rain water drizzling through the gap.

"Would rather jump out..." Aoba muttered under his breathe in defiance.

Mink's brows quirked up at the remark "What was that?" he asked. Their eyes met for a moment, and he could almost feel the tension between them, like a spark of electricity. Mink's eyes were usually such a cold, ocean blue, yet right now they seemed still and frozen like an icy lake.

"Nothing," Aoba spat after a few seconds, unable to bear the stifling silence, continuing to glare at him in stubbornly until the teacher once again lowered his head with a sigh and began scribbling on his paper once more. Aoba didn't trust him at all. He had the eyes of someone hiding something evil, and he concealed his true self beneath a mask of false kindness and smiles.

His eyes tracing patterns the beads of rain water drew on the window as they softly pattered against it to the sound of Mink writing, pen on paper, he sat for another fifteen minutes, each second dragging itself out. Even the ticking of the clock on the wall seemed dull and slow, until finally the bell to signify the end of lunch time came. He swiftly stood up, determined to get away as soon as he could. Giving Mink's desk a wide berth as he scurried toward the door, he didn't look back as he dashed out into the corridor. "Well, bye then," he heard Mink murmur, and to his relief he wasn't called back or told to wait or anything.

It was during his last class of the day, he had been barely listening to some other kid, Clear, as he stood up and read out a passage from a book in broken English, hesitant and unsure as he struggled to read out the basic text. Clear had been held back a year in school, just like Aoba, so he felt an odd connection to him, a sort of nod of respect at their mutual situation. Shyly the other boy pushed his soft white hair out of his face, pale eyes wide as he scanned the faces in room nervously before his gaze lowered back to the text. Aoba wasn't sure why he'd been put back a year, but in his own situation it was due to the fact he stopped going for months following Sei's death.

Aoba zoned out for a moment, his mind going numb to the drone of an unfamiliar language until it all just blurred into background noise. He stared at the desk beneath him, lost in thought as he began recalling Sei once more. Those dark, kind eyes, that gentle, warm smile. Even though they were twins, almost identical, sometimes Aoba was worried he'd forget what his brother looked like. They had been so alike, yet so different. In all the places Aoba was rough and jagged, Sei had been gentle and soft, like a craggy rock next to a glossy pebble. Aoba had always been a bit of a delinquent. He wasn't stupid, he just had no motivation to apply himself to anything, and found it more important to enjoy his time rather than waste it doing things he found tedious, like school work and studying. Sei was the opposite, he was intelligent, he was talented at everything, he had worked so hard without ever complaining and had a fierce determination to make something of himself and change the world. Aoba felt his hands curl into fists by his side, trembling slightly. A thought that often crept into the back of his mind showed itself once more, like a monster crawling out from under the bed. _It should have been me._

"Aoba Seragaki," a sharp voice cut through his trance, and he snapped his head up.

"I'm not reading out anything from a stupid book," he groaned, leaning back in his seat.

The teacher sighed, rolling his eyes. "We're all aware you can't read," he remarked derisively. "I said you've to head to the Nurse's Office." He gestured toward the door.

There was a slight scattering of suppressed giggles as Aoba grabbed his things and left. He was a little taken aback by the situation. Nurse's Office? What for? He wasn't hurt or ill, and he didn't really have any friends that would call on him if they were. It must be some sort of misunderstanding, he thought, but at least he got some relief from the stifling boredom of that English class for a while. He wondered if dying of boredom was a thing. If he ever got so uninterested in his surroundings, would his mind just become so dazed it would shut down, never to reawaken again?

He found himself staring at the the door to the Nurse's Office, the dark bold letters on a plaque above his head reassuring him it was the right place. Hesitantly he knocked. "Come in!" a voice called from the other side. Aoba anxiously inched the door open and stepped through.

"Why have I been called here?" he asked the nurse, an older, bubbly woman, peering at him from behind thin framed glasses, a smile on her plump lips. "Your name?" she asked, striding toward him.

"Seragaki. Aoba," he answered.

"Oh, take a seat over there and I'll explain in a minute," she answered, pointing toward a row of chairs to the left and then quickly rushing off behind one of the white curtains. The office was kind of like a mini hospital ward, all white washed and bright lights, with three or four little areas closed off behind curtain rails. In each one was a small bed and chair, Aoba recalled. Sei had collapsed in school a few times before, each time Aoba would find him lying in one of those beds, his face looking so drained and pale, but somehow his chapped lips still smiling weakly as he told him not to worry in his usual soft voice. But how could he not worry as he sat next to his brother who was so sickly all the time? Despite the fear that clawed away at his gut every time, he would still say "Of course I'm not worried. I know you'll be fine," and smile as he held Sei's hand, so cold and bony in his own.

Of course that was years ago, before he had transferred to another school where he would supposedly be taken better care of. A lot of good that did him, Aoba thought bitterly, turning his head away.

This was Aoba's first time here for himself, he suddenly realised, which only added to his growing confusion about what he was supposed to be doing.

"I just need to head to the main office and grab something, I won't be a minute!" he heard the nurse say, and he glanced up to see her coming out from behind the curtain and swiftly pulling it back over behind her. She smiled at Aoba as she walked by, heels clicking on the floor. "Just a minute, Aoba," she said, and he nodded stiffly then lowered his eyes. Once the door was closed, he heard the sound of someone shifting, light foot steps, the curtain rustling as it was pulled open. A head peered out from behind, familiar green eyes narrowing on him studiously. "What are you doing here?" Noiz asked, pushing the curtain out of the way as he approached. Aoba scowled at him, still feeling sour about earlier. "Go away, idiot," he hissed.

The blond let out a small chuckle. "Charming," he mumbled, casually walking over to the cluttered desk at the far side of the room. "Let's find out," he said, a simple statement as he planted himself on the black, high backed swivel chair in front of the computer and began tapping on the keyboard with one hand while the other settled on the mouse. "What are you doing?" Aoba demanded. "If she comes back you're in trouble!"

He dismissed the comment with a shake of his head and continued, muttering something under his breathe, and a few clicks on the mouse later, his wide eyes lit up with more than just the reflection of the bright screen. "Interesting," he said, looking over at Aoba, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"What is?" he snapped in response, feeling increasingly agitated.

"You really don't know?" he asked with a curious glance in his direction. "Come and see," Noiz beckoned him over with a casual wave of his hand. Aoba saw it was heavily bandaged from wrist to knuckles, only his thumb fully free, and dark red stains harshly smeared the soft white material. "Your hand!"

Noiz glanced down at his fingers, his brows raising in genuine surprise as he examined it. "Oh," He shrugged it off so indifferently, as though it was nothing more than an insignificant paper cut, but judging by the amount of blood it seemed much worse. As Aoba got closer he could see it was still bleeding, the red area slowly growing like a blotch of ink soaking into paper. "You're bleeding, idiot," he said sharply.

"I don't care," Noiz answered.

"Just go back already! You're gonna get us both in trouble, dumbass!" Aoba warned, his uneasiness growing into agitation. Why was Noiz always such a shitty brat, anyway?

"I will once you look at the screen," he agreed with a knowing smirk, which only fed into Aoba's annoyance. He didn't want to get that close to the boy, but seeing no other choice, impishly he made his way around the desk, standing behind the chair and studying the screen. Leaning forward to get a closer look, he saw his name in bold type, and just beneath it in smaller letting were two words: _Grief Counselling_

At first the words didn't seem to sink in through his confusion. "What?" he said aloud, not really realising he had spoken as he moved away. His stomach seemed to drop as though plunged into an icy lake, and he felt a slight sickness crawling up his throat. What was this all about? He had a bad feeling, a dark dread creeping into his gut, but he couldn't quite explain why. Counselling. It had an awful ring to it, like an unpleasant smell, not something you'd want associated with your name. The last thing he wanted was to sit alone with some stranger and talk about his feelings, while they nodded at him and scribbled away on a notepad about how fucked up he was. He'd spoke to people like that in the weeks after Sei's death, and they just seemed to tell him what he wanted to hear and make him feel tiny and insignificant with their condescending eyes, filled to the brim with pity.

He thought he'd been holding himself together pretty well lately. For the first few weeks after Sei died, the shock of it seemed to blow him apart, like a brick crashing through a glass window. Then the pain began to seep through the cracks as reality set in. Agony, as though his heart had been torn from his body, as though his insides were made of glass, as though any day he would just fall apart. Those months were the hardest. He couldn't recall leaving the house once, he just sat in bed and sobbed most of the time, as every single day just blurred into one and other and he dragged himself through the hours of darkness, barely even clinging on.

The pain of losing Sei would never go away, it would fester like a wound inside him forever, a piece of himself torn away. But he was coping now. He was going to school, he was going out, things could distract him from it so he didn't have to think about it all day, every day. Even though inside he was still grieving, on the outside he made sure he seemed fine. He didn't let it show, not even when he saw a dark haired boy who reminded him of Sei and his heart seized for a moment, or when he saw children playing and vague memories of his childhood cropped up in the back of his mind, and he missed those days so desperately that he felt he would break down and cry. But instead he steeled his heart and looked away, forced back the tears and carried on. Because he was coping.

"What do you need grief counselling for anyway. Your dog die or something?" Noiz asked in his usual mocking tone, making his way back to the sick bed, where he sat at the edge and stared down at his bleeding hand as if fascinated by it. Of course he didn't know about Sei. Not many people at the school did. To them he was just a dim memory, already forgotten. He'd transferred less than a year after starting high school, and because of how quiet and distant he was, he never really made much of an impression on anyone apart from the times he had collapsed. Maybe people remembered that, maybe it was whispered sometimes among students. " _What happened to the boy that fainted in class?"_ or something to that effect. But he doubted it. Those weren't the kind of things you wanted to remember, and even if you did you were probably more inclined to focus on the chaos that followed than the person themselves.

Aoba snapped out of it, shooting a harsh glare at the blond. "I don't. This is bullshit," he spat, storming toward the chair where he'd left his bag and scooping it up "I'm leaving this shit hole,"

"Now whose gonna get in trouble?" Noiz called after him as though to mock him as he swung the door open and dashed out. His eyes darted frantically from side to side, scanning to see if the hallway was clear. To his relief it was empty, and he couldn't hear the clipped footsteps of the Nurse's heels, so she must still be a reasonable distance away. He took a deep breathe, trying to still his trembling nerves, and then darted toward the main stairwell, rushing down the steps and making his way outside.

The cold air swept through him in a harsh gust as he stepped out, beads of rain stinging as they battered against the vulnerable skin of his face. He lowered his chin, hunching his shoulders against the collar of his coat in an attempt to protect himself against the dreadful weather. It had only been a drizzle earlier, but now an icy wind blew wildly and the skies were darkening, dull grey clouds rolling across like a veil to block out the sunlight, and rain poured relentlessly, as if to drown the world like in the story of Noah's Ark. He was soaked through within minutes as he dashed across the school yard, shoes drenched as the splashed through the growing sheet of water on the ground. As soon as he passed the main gates to freedom, he felt a sense of relief wash over him, as though he had crossed some great barrier or pulled himself between the bars of a cage. Before a steady voice called out behind him, washing away his brief reprieve. "Oi!"

He froze on the spot, the hair on the back of his neck shooting up as though frazzled with static energy. Slowly, he turned as the cold rain poured down his face, plastering his hair to his forehead, sweaty bangs covering his eyes in limp wet clumps. There Mink stood, looking more imposing than usual in a long dark coat, stony gaze peeking out from beneath a clear umbrella. It almost created the illusion that the rain water was purposely falling around him in an open arch, as though to avoid touching him at all cost. "Where are you going?" he asked. He spoke almost as if he'd been expecting Aoba to show up. He didn't seem surprised or confused. Just calm, his eyes watching Aoba expectantly as he awaited an answer, as cold as the icy rain that fell from the sky.


End file.
